


A Confused Hobbit

by KageKashu



Series: Of a Dragon, and a Hobbit... and a Mountain of Dwarves [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Blood, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 12:54:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KageKashu/pseuds/KageKashu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which John was a BAMF, and Bilbo sometimes forgets that he is too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bilbo Was John Is Bilbo

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a tad more serious than previous pieces, but no worries, it'll probably be silly again soon enough.

Bilbo took a deep, steadying breath, clenching his hands at his sides. His left hand, soft and clean, was clenched so tightly that there would be tiny, moon-shaped cuts in his palm later, while his right, still soft beneath the slick, dripped red. He had mixed feelings about this - It was one thing to kill goblins, orcs and wargs, but a dwarf? 

He wouldn't have done it, he didn't think, under normal circumstances. Thorin was perhaps one of the most important people in Bilbo's life; he couldn't very well let some warmonger take that away from him. Erebor wasn't thought to be a stable kingdom yet, in and of itself. Someone must have said it to Bilbo at some point. There would be those who tried to kill Thorin for taking what they couldn't. There would be those who would try to murder his friend just because he was king. There would be those who sought revenge, those who wished to make their clans greater than his... In short, Thorin wasn't safe - not that he ever was. 

"I am Bilbo Baggins," he told the dark, empty hall. He bit his lip. The words weren't all that convincing. "I am _not_ John Hamish Watson. I am Bilbo Baggins; a hobbit, from the Shire... And I just killed a dwarf," he concluded flatly. Yes, this was turning out to be a _lovely_ day. 

Was it guilt that was tormenting him? He didn't think so. He had done what he had thought necessary. The dwarf had died quickly, Bilbo had made certain of that. Hobbits, Men, dwarves, elves; they were all built basically the same. What would kill one would just as easily kill another. Some were more resilient than others - Bifur was proof of that - but a dagger jammed deeply into the soft part of the neck would kill any of them. 

No, Bilbo Baggins didn't feel guilty for killing the dwarf (and protecting his friend). He felt _tired_. 

* * *

"John is a remarkable creature," Smaug murmured to the king, circling around the body like the predator he was. Others had gone to see if the assassin had been working alone, but the dragon didn't care. It wasn't important. That Bilbo was willing to kill to protect this king - that was important. He knelt at the corpse's head to examine the death wound. Smaug had been right to remember John as an efficient killer, he thought. The efficiency of a soldier and a doctor combined with a desire to not lengthen his victim's suffering. The dwarf died quickly; messily, but quickly. It cannot have hurt for more than a minute, but had likely been much less. "I think he would not have done this to protect himself." 

Like as not, Smaug mused, Bilbo's hobbit sensibilities had been offended by the need to kill another, and that was why he had run off. Amazingly, Smaug hadn't even seen the blow that had killed the nameless dwarf, in spite of his near constant need to watch his hobbit. He considered explaining to Thorin just how Sherlock and John had met, but wasn't sure how to make the story make sense. Dwarves probably had never encountered such things as guns - perhaps he could substitute John's gun for a crossbow? Crossbows are notoriously inaccurate, though, so it would make the story sound even more unlikely. 

No, his time would be better spent seeking Bilbo and making sure that he wasn't having some sort of psychotic break at realizing that he was still capable of murder (this, technically, was not murder; it was defense of the king, or something like that). 

When he found Bilbo, which proved to be surprisingly easy, the hobbit was leaning against a wall in an empty corridor, staring at his hands. Smaug remembered John doing this once. "I forgot," said the hobbit, and Smaug didn't startle only because he knew how good Bilbo's ears were, "what these hands can do. They aren't the same hands, they're too small and soft, but they're still strong, still capable." Both hands dropped, and the bloody one left a crimson streak on Bilbo's pants. 

Bilbo didn't look terribly upset, nor did he smell so (though it was difficult to tell over the reek of blood). "It isn't the hands that are dangerous, John." Smaug was sure that Bilbo was supposed to know this. "It's the mind. It's your mind that makes you dangerous, strong, weak. It always has been." 

Something about what the dragon said caused Bilbo's eyes to flash in the darkness. "I _am not_ Dr. John Hamish Watson!" he exclaimed, suddenly angry. "I am Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, and what am I doing here?" 

In spite of his anger, he allowed Smaug to gather him up in his arms. "You're here with me. Anything else is unimportant, but if Thorin-King is important enough for you to kill for, then I'll protect him too." 

"The others too," Bilbo muttered into his shoulder. The hobbit's body was lax against his. 

"The others too," Smaug agreed, not about to argue. "You are Bilbo Baggins, but you are also John Watson. The body is different, the mind shaped by a different life, but you are still the same person, John. If you weren't, I would have given in and stopped calling you John. Today, if nothing else, proves that you are still the same as the man who killed for a man he had only met hours earlier..." 

"Maybe we knew each other before that, too..." 

"If so, we didn't know it," the dragon shrugged, adjusting Bilbo into a more comfortable position. "Come now. Hobbits don't like to be dirty, do they? Dwarf blood is about as dirty as it gets. Come, we'll get you a nice hot bath so that you're clean when Thorin calls for you later - because he will..." 

tbc


	2. Letters to Hobbitton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bilbo indulges the tendencies of two lives, and Smaug is curious about a certain young hobbit... and a lot of time passes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not as happy with this one, and I don't plan on writing any more until tomorrow at least. :)

Dearest Cousin... 

_No. That sounds so... ugh..._

Dearest Bungo... 

_No. Do I even want to write cousin Bungo?_

Dearest Primula. 

_Yes, maybe I can write her..._

Dearest Primula, 

I hope this letter finds you well. I... 

_Oh, dear, what can I write?_

Dearest Cousins, 

I hope this letter finds you well. It has been some time since I left the Shire and came to Erebor. I intend to come back soon to settle my affairs... 

_Settle my affairs... Is that what I'm doing? I suppose it is for the best. It's not like I can leave and not come back, if only for Smaug. I can only guess how he would react should I return to Bag End, never to come back._

As for myself, I can say that I am quite well. The Journey was a difficult one, but in the end, as it is with such things, it was worth every hardship. I count myself blessed for having such a tale to tell. I am currently writing of my adventure, and when I have finished, I shall send a copy home. 

_Except that isn't true, is it? Hobbitton and my lovely little hobbit hole, Bag End, aren't really my home anymore. I live in a mountain now, not a hill, surrounded by dwarves, and... Erebor is lovely... Yes, I should write that._

Erebor has been lovely so far. It took a while for things to settle, but now that they have, things are proceeding much more calmly. Thorin has been crowned King Under the Mountain for several months now, and assassination attempts have dwindled... 

_Oh, dear. Perhaps I shouldn't have written that. But I've already written enough that it seems like it would be such a waste... Best continue then._

The dragon, thankfully, proved to be little more than cantankerous, and after a bit of reasoning, chose to stay here at Erebor and guard the mountain with instead of against the dwarves. I hope to come back to Hobbitton for a short while in April. I hope to see you all then. 

Yours truly, 

Bilbo Baggins 

* * *

Dearest Cousins, 

I apologize again, for what happened during my visit. Getting my affairs in order took much longer than expected. I most humbly apologize, specifically, for the dragon. It was not my intention to bring him along, nor was it my intention to allow him to wander with my youngest cousins. Nor was it my intention to allow him to place a sow in Otho's bed. 

In other news, Smaug seems to have been rather taken with Hobbitton, and plans to make regular visits, with or without me. It would be in everyone's best interest if I went along with him, in order to mitigate. 

Looking forward to seeing everyone again, 

Bilbo Baggins 

* * *

My very Dearest Cousins, 

While I appreciate your attempts to explain hobbit culture to Fili and Kili, I do not appreciate that _someone_ was being less than honest with them. I have been presented with more embarrassing gifts this past week than at any other point in my life, including my coming of age party. Next time I catch any of you trying to "teach" any of the dwarves anything, I'm going to have to cry "cease and desist!" 

Thankfully, somehow, Smaug recognized those of you who were lying, and has given me a list... 

* * *

Dearest Bungo, 

I'm afraid that I am very familiar with that book. I think many of the company would appreciate if you did not send it back, as we have been attempting to lose it for some time... 

* * *

Dearest Bungo, 

I am glad to hear that the book was sent on to Rivendell, though disappointed that you kept it in the Shire for several months before sending it on. On another note, I am also glad to see that we hobbits are, in some ways, made of sterner stuff than dwarves... 

* * *

Dearest Primula, 

Happy tidings! We shall have to visit soon to see the new baby. I am very glad for you. Congratulations! 

* * *

Dearest... 

_No. This is a letter I will not write. I'll have already missed the funeral._

* * *

This wasn't the first time Bilbo had seen his tiny cousin, but Frodo looked even smaller than he had been the last time Bilbo had visited the Shire. (Strange, as his last visit had been years ago, already, and no matter what certain unnamed dwarves liked to say, hobbits did not shrink.) Unlike Bilbo, Smaug didn't stand back upon the sight of the tiny creature, instead heading directly for Frodo to examine him closely. 

Sad, very blue eyes stared up at the dragon (Smaug had learned, some time between visits, to turn into his not-hobbit form well before reaching the Shire, in spite of his protests at the lack of logic in it). "Are you my uncle?" asked Frodo, uncertainly, looking Smaug up and down, eyes stopping at the booted feet in confusion. 

_Lovely. He doesn't remember me,_ thought Bilbo, striding forward. "No, no, he's a dragon, little one, can't you tell?" Smaug gave him a skeptical look, which he ignored. "Come now, don't you recognize your cousin Bilbo?" 

* * *

The dragon circled the tiny hobbit. He didn't know what to make of it. It couldn't be more than two feet tall, and unlike most of the hobbits he had seen, it was thin and frail looking. Its blue eyes were large and bright in its tiny, pale face. Smaug suspected that it would be considered cute by most creatures. When they got it to Erebor, he was going to have to watch and make sure Thorin's sister or Gloin's wife didn't try and steal it. 

After all, it belonged to Bilbo, and if it belonged to Bilbo, it belonged to Smaug. 

Smaug had _plans_ that this might get in the way of. Ever since that discussion, not long after they had first met, where Bilbo had pointed out that he could very well _die_ and leave Smaug alone, Smaug had been pondering how to deal with the hobbit's frailty. Bilbo wasn't young anymore, and even a dragon could see that. 

That just meant that he had to put his plan into motion soon, baby hobbit present or not. Smaug's plan would leave Bilbo... incapable of taking care of things for some time, and since Bilbo would be wroth with him if no one was taking care of this little hobbit, that meant Smaug would have to take care of it. 

Dragons, it can be noted, tend to be confident in their ability to do things, whether or not it is something that they had ever done before. In coming years, Frodo would be torn over whether or not Smaug's care had been a good thing... but that is something he wouldn't find himself worrying about until much later in his life. 

tbc


	3. A Dragon's Foibles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a dragon thinks thinky thoughts and a plan is started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm much more pleased with this one than the last. :)

It had been over a year since the dwarves have moved back to Erebor, and Smaug was more entertained than he had been in _ages_. Mostly, it was Bilbo, but occasionally a dwarf or an unlucky man amused him as well. The dwarves, while still wary, were learning to work around him. Some even thawed enough toward him to talk to him - those being, mainly, the dwarves that had accompanied Bilbo and Thorin-King on his quest to reclaim the mountain. 

Those were the only ones worthy of consideration, in the dragon's eyes, the only ones worth Bilbo's time, as well. The hobbit didn't necessarily agree with Smaug on that point, but Smaug made a point of harassing those he deemed unworthy of Bilbo's attention, no matter that it irritated Bilbo to no end. 

Each of the original company were alright, though. 

Bombur, for one, was an unusually pleasant creature, who worked very hard at keeping Smaug's hobbit comfortably well fed. Bilbo could, quite easily, fend for himself on this, but the dwarf's offerings were always accepted with a smile (and here it was that Smaug had learned something new about hobbits - the habit of gift-giving), and next thing he knew, Bilbo would be making pastries for the plump dwarf, seeking the ingredients for his best recipes. Smaug always tasted these; in his not-hobbit form he had learned that the taste of blood wasn't that good, but sugar and tea and fresh bread were all absolutely wonderful. 

Bofur, once he had stopped being jittery and uncomfortable in Smaug's presence, turned out to be a good companion. He wasn't particularly intelligent, Smaug thought, but he was kind, and had many stories that made Bilbo laugh (another hobbit-ty thing, Smaug thought - John hadn't laughed nearly so much as Bilbo). In and of itself, that was enough to make the dragon pleased with his presence. 

Bifur, Smaug had realized quickly, couldn't say a single word in Westron, and was forever muttering in Khuzdul, when he spoke at all. Yet, for some reason, he and Bilbo got along well, and the dwarf had little fear of Smaug, and had even gone so far as to try to help the dragon court the hobbit - even if he seemed all too amused when Smaug's attempts nearly always ended in failure. It had been that dwarf's suggestion to try and get his intended interested in his hobbies... that hadn't ended well. Bilbo hadn't been able to look at him for days, saying that he was sick of gold (of all things!), and that Smaug had better do better than that the next time. He gave the dwarf points for trying. It wasn't like the dwarves understood Bilbo any better than Smaug did. 

Dwalin was intensely protective - both of his king and of his "burglar", which the dragon counted as firmly in his favor. Balin was kindly, insightful, and mostly helpful. His suggestion for Smaug to take Bilbo stargazing was a near miss - as close as his earlier attempts had gotten to anything. It was hardly the dwarf's fault that there was snow on top of the mountain at most times of year, and hobbits aren't meant to sit in the snow without extra layers of clothing for warmth... 

Ori had been shy, not offering any advice until after things had settled between the hobbit and the dragon. But his words had been important, in their own way. "Stay close when he's unhappy. He'll eventually realize that he's important to you, and that you won't go away... But if you hurt him, every single one of us will come for you. Keep that in mind." The youngest dwarf had been earnest, willing to protect Bilbo even from Smaug... which had endeared him to the dragon, whether or not he would ever know it. 

Fili and Kili... those two... maniacs... Smaug didn't _not_ like them. How could he dislike fellow well-meaning troublemakers? He didn't know how to deal with them, most days, and Bilbo was more fond of them than not, but Smaug tried to actively like them. Their idea that he try to cook for Bilbo was forgiven when he found out that they had stumbled across _The Story of the Valar_ , and hadn't been the same since. Kili insisted that the Valar were a bunch of freaky perverts, and no one could convince him otherwise. Fili, who had the misfortune of opening the book some days later, vehemently agreed. 

Nori and Dori, Smaug also didn't know what to think of. He commended their loyalty, to both Thorin and Bilbo, and their bravery, but otherwise thought little of them. Same as with Oin and Gloin. He had learned little about the four dwarves in the year he had known them, but assumed that he would one day know them as well as the others. 

Thorin, Smaug respected in a different way from the others. The dwarf reminded him a little of Lestrade, only more cunning, almost viscious. He was patient, and had already proven to be a good friend to Bilbo, and for the dragon, that was enough. 

As for Gandalf... Gandalf had reminded Smaug of someone. Mycroft. He was certain that the soul wasn't the same, though. He had met Gandalf months after Bilbo had come to him, and Bilbo hadn't heeded Smaug's advice to talk to the wizard about the ring. In fact, as far as Smaug could tell, he was the only one who even knew about the ring. But, if there was one thing Smaug had learned about relationships from his life as Sherlock, it was that the other party rarely reacted well to their romantic partner making decisions for them. Therefore, Smaug was going to have to wait for Bilbo to come to the conclusion that something needed to be done about the ring on his own. 

In the year since that fateful day in which the halfling had stolen his way into Smaug's treasure, Bilbo had allowed the dragon many... indiscretions. It was apparently inappropriate to sleep in the bed of another adult who was not yet your lover (still, Smaug remained forever hopeful). Oddly enough, the only times Bilbo actually threw him out were the times that he could sense (Smaug could smell it) that Bilbo was about to give in. It was _frustrating_. 

Sometimes he wondered if it was because of gender - John had been a little leery, he remembered, of being seen as _with_ Sherlock, yet John's sister had been with other women. The dwarves, also, seemed to have no problem with it. Very rarely did he sense lust on one of them that was not in the presence of their mate, but often enough both concerned were male. It might be due to the fact relatively few of the dwarves were female. Smaug would either have to read up on it, or ask. If he did ask, it would be Balin that he turned to. The older dwarf was remarkably patient (where Thorin would grit his teeth and clench his strong, stubby fingers against his brow, Balin would just smile, offer a word, and wait for the rest to come out - Smaug had long since discovered that he was the best one to go to in certain situations). 

Balin had cautioned him toward patience with Bilbo. "Just work him over slowly," the dwarf had told him. "Eventually, he won't want to throw you out." 

_Supposedly,_ Smaug snorted at the memory, curling around his hobbit's sleeping form and nuzzling up to his neck. He licked the edge of Bilbo's ear, and when the hobbit just squirmed slightly and stretched, one hand reaching up to tangle in Smaug's hair, he found himself thinking, _Maybe today..._

* * *

Years later, he might look at that as a changing point in their relationship. Bilbo would, however, just tell him that it was merely a step. And as the hobbit aged, a strange sinking feeling slowly settled upon Smaug. He hadn't wanted to believe Bilbo about hobbits dying of old age in barely over a century of life, but he was beginning to see proof of it. By the time they had gone to Hobbitton to pick up Bilbo's little cousin, the dragon had finally hatched a plan to take care of the problem. 

Gandalf certainly wouldn't approve, but if it kept Bilbo with him, what did Smaug care for the foibles of a wizard? 

It didn't even occur to him to wonder if Bilbo would approve. He didn't even think to ask Bilbo's permission. Instead, once the tiny Frodo was firmly ensconced in his lover's bed, Smaug went out searching for the main item needed to put his plan into action. 

A fresh dragon egg. 

tbc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to anyone who figures out what Smaug is going to do with that egg. :)


	4. A Dragon's Egg and a Hobbit's... Family(ies)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are those who wonder what happened to Bilbo, and Smaug is smug. Also - don't go drinking with hobbits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how I feel about this one, but it is here anyway. And this is all for at least twenty four hours. :) This is also where you find out what was up with the egg.

It was impossible for Smaug to sneak out of Erebor and back, and many a dwarf wondered just what it was that he carried, with great care in his massive maw. The dragon chose not to enlighten them, and instead made his way into the treasure hall to hide his burden within the masses of gold. The perfect place, he thought, for a dragon egg. Tiny objects of power were already gathered near the egg. Now, he just needed to find the aged hobbit and bring him to the treasure hall as well. 

* * *

It was days before anyone but Frodo asked after Bilbo, and all the dragon would tell them was that he was "fixing John; do keep up." The egg gleamed gold and blue from within its amassed gold and jewels, shining more brightly than any save one - the Arkenstone. 

Frodo was the one who figured it out first. He was twelve years old and quite precocious (compared to Men, he might be viewed as equivalent to an eight year old child), and didn't think to tell his newest uncles, Thorin, Fili, Kili, Dwalin, Balin...and so forth, that _he_ knew where Uncle Bilbo (actually his cousin, but he thought Uncle sounded better) went. 

In a letter to his younger cousins, who could read maybe as well as he could write, he told them that "Unkel Bilbo is an eg now. Unkl Smug is giving me a hord. He gav me tis reel comfy chair, an reel nise blankits an..." and so it went on. The parents of said cousins couldn't understand what he meant by "an eg"... and that's how a large entourage of hobbits ended up making its way to Erebor. 

* * *

Like everything else hobbits do, they like to travel in comfort (if not in style). Part of comfort, in this case, is by having company, and family nearby, so when they travel, they tend to do so in groups, large ones preferably. Bilbo had been the exception, rather than the rule; then again, if he had been asked, he certainly would have liked to bring along some of his more adventuresome cousins along that original trip to Erebor. It would have made him feel safer, at the least, not to mention a lot more comfortable. 

Then again, it would have been difficult to convince them to come along in a party of less than ten. 

The group that made its way to Erebor this time consisted of the better part of several families (some of whom were concerned for Bilbo, others which merely wished for a little bit of adventure - ushered out the door by their families in hope that it would work its way out of their systems in a relatively safe manner). 

There were Tooks and Brandybucks, Cottons and Gamgees (the younger of whom was sent by their Gaffer to check on his one time employer), and even Bagginses; Lobelia had never forgiven Smaug for the incident with the pig, and she had never forgiven Bilbo either, and considered this the perfect opportunity to bring trouble to her (distant) cousin's doorstep. 

To say the least, it wasn't a quickly traveling lot (the toils of the road made a bit easier by their sheer number), but in spite of this, the dwarves hadn't been expecting them at all, and nearly thirty (adult) hobbits are a lot to deal with on short notice (the Bagginses present would later say that they _had_ sent word ahead of them). In addition to the full grown (but still very small) hobbits, there were presumably a dozen or so youngsters (teens and preteens plus a bunch of tweens - technically adults - that had been playing the part of caravan guard, surprisingly well). 

Of course, several birthdays had occurred along the road, so the families decided that they would party when they finally stopped. And party they did... and party... and party. 

Smaug enjoyed the visit, of course. And when asked, yet again, what he had done to Bilbo, he finally admitted, without a single ounce of shame, that the egg that sat gleaming within his hoard _was_ Bilbo (actually, he had said something slightly different, but that was what it came to in the end). 

Much to Thorin's chagrin, when Smaug told them that the egg would hatch in a little under a year, the entire lot decided to stick around until the it hatched. Thankfully, over all, hobbits tend to be a pleasant lot, and as much as the elderly Lobelia complained, even she was less prickly than the average dwarf. The hobbits weren't exactly useless, either. Most of them were capable in trades that most dwarves rarely gave much thought to, so they didn't wear out their welcome like Thorin had expected - thankfully. 

He still didn't know what to do with them. 

* * *

Thorin knew even less what to do with the hobbits when, during one of their parties (during which many a dwarf fell under the tables trying to match the Tooks drink for drink), screams erupted at the sight of several half-grown wargs. The tweens who had been playing caravan guard had been hiding them from the adults - understandably. After all, not a single one of them wanted to explain just why they had rescued (yes, rescued) the creatures. 

"We could hardly leave them like that. Their eyes weren't even open yet! When we set off to find them, we meant to kill them, but they were completely helpless!" Their caravan had been attacked at some point by orcs and wargs (and much to Thorin's shock, they handled it just fine, and they didn't have any outside help on _that_ matter), and one of the wargs had obviously recently whelped. While Thorin could applaud their initiative in searching for the young, he couldn't help but be nervous over the idea of hobbits raising warg pups. 

Oddly enough, it was Smaug to reassure him on that subject. "Wargs aren't inherently evil, O King," the dragon had said with a sly grin. "Nor are dragons. We each have our own virtues - such as steadfast loyalty, once we've given it." It was disappointing, indeed, that most wargs had given their loyalty to goblins and orcs, but that was the way of such things. 

* * *

In planning for the party at the end of the year, someone finally had the gall to ask Smaug about Bilbo's opinion on the matter of... whatever it was that Smaug had done to him with the egg. Somewhat naïvely (according to the dwarves who knew him), the dragon asked, "Should I have asked first?" Then, growing worried, he stated, "John's going to be wroth with me, isn't he?" Resigned, he continued, "It doesn't matter. I would have done it anyway. This way I don't have to watch him die." Then he slunk off into the gold to wrap his great form protectively around the egg. 

It was strange, imagining their friendly little burglar as a dragonling, but Thorin supposed that it might be better than to have to bury him. As he had watched Bilbo age, seeing Smaug's denial that anything terrible was going to happen to him, Thorin had gotten resigned to the fact that the hobbit was likely to die long before him. It was a sad fact. As the halfling's face grew more and more lined, and his hair turned from burnished bronze to a tarnished silver, his mind stayed sharp as ever, and Thorin knew that he wasn't the only one who would miss his little friend. 

Another thing the king found himself worrying about - Would Bilbo come out of that egg remembering them? 

tbc

**Author's Note:**

> Due to an unexpected computer problem, it may take a while before I can update again. Sorry all. :)


End file.
